Blow Pops and Creampies
by Ethan-Silas
Summary: Sirius picks up dinner for his boyfriend, Remus, and after reflecting on the unorthodox way their relationship began, he ends up forgetting all about dinner in favor of the lovely desert that's waiting at home for him.


I'm my way home from work with dinner from my baby's favorite restaurant, all the while thinking about my delicious man, alone at home. I can't help but groan wantonly at the thought of him.

My man's name is Remus and he is the sexiest thing alive. He's got light brown hair and sinful golden eyes that absolutely beg me to fuck him into nothing. We've been together since we first met, back in high school, and looking back I have no regrets about how we went about it.

I remember the day we met perfectly.

I was running away from one of my wretched cousins who was attempting to cut my hair when I saw a second-hand book store and ran inside. I had locked the door and was peeking out of the window when I heard a slight laugh. I turned around to see him there, his eyebrows raised while he sucked on a cherry Blow Pop, and I was instantly hard.

"You know, you really shouldn't lock up the store. What if someone wanted a book? Besides, my boss would kill me for letting you and all," He stated with a smirk on his face.

I looked around at the store and knew that no one was going to come in there to shop. After all, it was a used book shop and dust coated everything, not to mention the fact that there was not a soul in sight. I gave him my best 'Bitch, please" face, but it only sent him laughing at me.

"So, hottie, what're you running from?"

I was kinda surprised at his blatant flirting, but it didn't bother me much. Plus, you know, he was a hot twink that looked like he could use a ride on my prick.

"My cunt of a cousin, Bella, is wanting to shuck off all of my hair." I told him. I felt his golden gaze look me all over. My hair had been at least down to the middle of my back, but the ponytail I wore it in brought it to rest just below the bottom of my shoulder blades.

"You do seem as if you're in need of a hair cut," the stranger chuckled.

I shot him a horrified look.

"Oh, babe… I come here to hide, and you side with her? How could you?"

He started to laugh at that. He had a musical laugh, the kind that makes you wanna listen to it forever. "Why do you have your hair that long, anyway?" he asked, giving that Blow Pop another long, hard suck.

Fuck, I thought. He needs to stop sucking on that and start sucking my dick instead.

"Because I'm punk-rock, that's why." I told him with as much cache as my sculpted, raised chin could demand. Which, as I'm told, is quite a lot. He offered an odd look and gave me a once over before his golden orbs settled to meet my hazel gaze with much amusement.

"Yes, because all punk-rockers wear a t-shirt honoring the musical Wicked,"

"Well, of course you don't know, but Elphaba happens to be my homegirl." I informed him with a straight face. We both tried- we really, honestly and truly did- not to laugh, but as soon as he started snickering I started barking out laughter, and soon after he joined it, albeit less dramatically.

"Okay, whatever you say, man." Goddamn him, again with that Blow Pop.

I looked around the store for a bit after that, but there really wasn't interesting besides him… And I was curious as to just how far he would let me take it.

I slid up to him while he was distracted a book and gave his long, thin neck a slow lick. He made a pleasured noise and tilted his head casually, his golden gaze looking at me with a mix of bemusement, adoration, and humourous curiosity.

Soon enough, his Blow Pop was forgotten and I had him up against a wall, marking his neck up with hickies of assorted hues. I worked my hands under his shirt and slid them up, feeling his smooth skin. When I got to his small, tense nipples, I pinched and rolled them between my knowledgable fingers. Soon, the shirt was gone and I had my mouth around his other nipple, periodically switching, suckling like a starving babe while he gave me the perfect noises, like a bitch in heat.

He reached for my jeans started to undo them, only to do what I'd been wanting him to since I'd gotten in the store. He was on his bony knees, licking and sucking on my cock. He smeared my precum down the length of my shaft only to take the majority of my member into his hot mouth, and in that moment, I discovered the meaning of heaven. He knew exactly how to get me off; how to switch the pressure of his suction; where to press his hot, slippery tongue; when to send vibrations raking up and down me with groans. Not to mention the fact that he seemed to have no gag reflex at all and kept taking me into the back of his throat.

The part he couldn't fit into his mouth he was stroking with a hand that twisted to the speed of his bobbing, and fiddling with my nads and nearing me closer to the edge. In no time at all, I was shooting my load down his throat, and after that, he was licking his lips seductively. We would have continued, too, were it not for the outburst of my phone's call tone, specifically the one for my banshee of a mother. I took the call and he wrote his number down for me, and I dressed and left.

I'm brought back to the present as I pull up to the front of our flat. I climb out of the car, takeout in hand, and make my way inside.

I call for him but receive no response, so I go looking for him. I'm pleasantly surprised when I find.

He's on our bed, tugging on his prick while he sucks on three fingers. He's cherry red in the cheeks, and the color fades down into pink from his hairline to his collarbone, ear to ear. He sees me but continues, until it seems as if just wanking isn't enough for him anymore.

He takes his fingers out of his mouth and starts to prod at his lovely arse. He's trying to go in as deep as possible but, bless him, my man has little fingers and can't quite reach that lovely bundle of nerves about 10 centimeters deep. Not long after he starts, he pulls the mulberry-colored vibrator from the nightstand, the one I gave him for his birthday last March, and slowly works it into his little slut-hole. I watch as he stretches himself open for me, legs spread in the air. He'ss moaning like a whore as one hand works the dildo and the other plays with his left nipple; the more sensitive of his two buds. He pinches it so hard it changes color from it's usual deep currant-red to a dull boysenberry.

His dick is very nearly pouring precome all over the bedding, and his chest seems wet from was must be a previous orgasm. He's chewing on his lip, eyes squeezed shut, and I know he's about to come again. I walk over and swat his hand away from the dildo.

His eyes snap open in surprise but he relaxes after he sees me. I draw the dildo from his gaping slut-hole and inwardly revel in the way he groans my name.

"Sirius! Fuck, please," he moans, trying to grab at my hand. I shoot him a wicked grin, lower gracefully to my knees, and give him a long lick from his nads to his gaping, well-maintained hole. He groans at the sensation of this tongue-to-taint assault, and I snicker before licking and prodding my agile tongue around his tasty rim. I eat his hole and he moans my name like a prayer over and over again.

I inhale the familiar scent of his, so odd and original- fresh jizz and old books. Basically, Remus' two favorite things. One might begin to think the aroma was purposeful.

I start to tongue his hole, bringing him closer again to his finish. When that doesn't seem to be enough for my little bitch, I stand and flip him over, pulling my trousers and pants off while he assumes our favorite position; doggy. I give his prick, a bit longer and thinner than my own, a few tugs while I hotdog him, while he peers back at my thick meat with greed in his golden eyes. Soon, I slam quickly into his slutty hole- still gaping, which must have needed a bit of effort on his part. Such a good slut, my baby.

I'm thrusting in and out of him as he grips the sheets for dear life, turning his head and beckoning me forward so he can kiss me. He bites my lip and tries to get the upper hand, as he so often does, and as usual I'm not having any of it. I'm soon sucking unforgivingly on his tongue, tasting the tea still lingering on his breath.

I feel Remus start to shake and soon, streams of his hot load are covering his chest and the bed. His walls are clenching ever-so-tightly on my prick, to the hilt inside of his sweet, hot arse, and it isn't too long before i follow suit and paint his pink interior with my alabaster, liquid love.

I'm still laying over his chest, positioned so as to have pressure on him without smooshing the thin thing, until I finally pull out and give a low grunt of approval to watch my gravy leak from his poor, abused hole.

I give a proud smirk and he laughs sleepily at me, slumping to rest on his side, and nudges me with his long, silly knit sock.

"Jerk," he accuses of me, though I'm not entirely sure why. Despite this insult, I lean in for a slow, romantic kiss. I nibble on his lips and ponder the fact that I wouldn't rather be anywhere else in the world, and hope the feeling is mutual.

I gently push my middle finger into his arse and stir my cooling spooge around inside of him for a solid three minutes, deciding whether or not to eat my homemade creampie, when I remember something.

"Shit," I curse, and sit up, pulling my finger out. He opens a sleepy eye to look at me. "I forgot about the food. It's probably cold by now," I look out at the half-open door.

"Food!" My baby says and sits up. So much for my creampie.

"Yeah, I went to the Dragon's Lair after work and picked up-" I didn't bother to finish my sentence, as his bare arse was already out of the door, my come leaking down his hairy thighs.

I laugh as I stand, fix my trousers, and follow him.


End file.
